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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27763297">Shadows Doth Make Bright</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ararelitus/pseuds/ararelitus'>ararelitus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Terror (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A LOT of negotionations, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Pining, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Post-expedition, Slow Burn, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, established jcr/anne and francis/fitzjames, like 6 chapters worth at least</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:20:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,268</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27763297</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ararelitus/pseuds/ararelitus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Returning to England after the horrors of the expedition, James Fitzjames and Francis Crozier move to Aston Abbotts with the Rosses. As new feelings come to light, old ones become harder to deny… </p>
<p>(or: four people just need to sit down and talk, but they’re too Victorian for that)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Captain Francis Crozier/Commander James Fitzjames/Lady Ann Ross/Sir James Clark Ross, Captain Francis Crozier/James Fitzjames, Captain Francis Crozier/Sir James Clark Ross, Lady Ann Ross/Sir James Clark Ross</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/annecoulmanross/gifts">annecoulmanross</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Yes this is a gift for tulliolaciceronis. Yes, they are also my beta, who encouraged me to keep working on this and actually finish it XD</p>
<p>I started this out back in March? as a fill for a tumblr prompt and now we're here.... </p>
<p>I'm about 6 unedited chapters into this, but updates are subject to my writing whims. </p>
<p>Title from Shakespeare's Sonnet XLIII. You see, I must keep a consistent darkness motif in all my rossier adjacent fics now?? Stay tuned for one titled "Endless Shadows" XD</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“How long has this been going on?” James Fitzjames said, peering into the sitting room through the crack left by the partially open door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anne Coulman Ross gave him a resigned look from her perch on the ottoman beside him. She sighed and looked down, smoothing the rich blue silk of her dress. “Ah, well, many</span>
  <em>
    <span> many</span>
  </em>
  <span> years. Longer than I’ve known them, that’s for sure.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>James watched the two arctic heroes, on the same settee, sharing a blanket. They sat in silence, reading their own books. He’d grown familiar with the mannerisms of Francis Crozier. The way he’d show he cared even when he didn’t say it. It was written in the way he now unconsciously pulled the blanket up over Sir James Clark Ross’ shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>James had wondered, never thought much of it and yet...“They insist that they’re-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The dearest of friends, yes. My James he’s… he’s far more emotional than he’ll let anyone believe. He used to write me the most beautiful letters, most of the feelings crossed out. Still, he’s never told Frank how he feels. He won’t say it, but he’ll go to the ends of the earth to bring him back home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was strange to see a man he so admired in such a state. Sir James seemed so small in this giant house of his – and the reading glasses didn’t help. James had styled his hair after the man, stared at his portrait and dreamed of having one just like it. He’d posed in the mirror much the same way when he’d received an officer’s sword. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And we are both endlessly grateful for that,” James said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was all too intimate. Like he was intruding on something he wasn’t supposed to see. Even if Sir James himself insisted that this was now his home too. James remembered watching Francis and Sir James sit together in the theatre, smiling at each other, wishing he could hear what they were saying and learn of all their adventures.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As am I.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were always together when James saw them before the expedition. Any time Francis Crozier had a smile on his face, it was when James Clark Ross was there too. James understood now why Francis felt so sad and alone at the start of the voyage: he’d set off and left part of himself behind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I never wanted to… ” Fitzjames looked back into the sitting room. James Clark Ross had fallen asleep on the settee, and Francis was gently draping another blanket over his legs. “I would never interfere. I wouldn’t object-” James stopped himself, remembering that he was speaking to James Clark Ross’ wife and not a close friend of his. “Well that is, I mean...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no, James.” She reached a hand over and squeezed his forearm.  “I know what you’re saying.” She sighed again. “I just want them to be happy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>James had been jealous of James Clark Ross in so many ways, and this effortless closeness with Francis once would have driven him mad. James had never realized </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span> close they were – what they had. He hadn’t known. How could he, when perhaps they didn’t know themselves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As do I. I don’t want to stand in the way of that either,” James said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’re not. No more than I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure there’s something we can do, though,” James whispered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps. We can try.” She didn’t look convinced. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door opened slowly and Francis stepped out. He looked at them and brought a finger to his lips as he closed the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“James fell asleep in there, figure I’ll let him rest before trying to move him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He hardly sleeps these days. Oh Lord knows, you’ll wake him and he’ll run right back to his study,” Anne replied. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s exactly what I fear.” Francis shook his head. “Well, what are you two doing out here? Gossiping?” He gave a quick smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Frank, we were just talking about you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t think I want to know then. Well, my dear Thot, you'll have to forgive me. I think it’s time for bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, Frank. I can handle James duty tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This has to be the strangest part of living here,” James admitted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anne turned to him and took his hand. “Yes, I imagine so. We’ve yet to figure this one out, sorry James.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand. It was his name first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, James,” Anne looked up at him with her bright blue eyes. “Have a good night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You too, Anne,” he replied. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Francis chucked and turned to look at James. His eyes, equally bright under the abundant lamps. “Shall we go to sleep, darling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” James took his hands and stood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Francis wrapped an arm around his waist as they walked to the long winding staircase that would take them to their bedroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>James glanced back. The door to the living room was open and Anne had left her seat. “Are you sure they’ll be fine? I don’t mind waiting up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no. It’s alright. James… James Ross, needs to learn better sleep habits now that he’s retired.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you say so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do.” Francis stopped in the doorway to their room and turned to James. “Now, I think I’ve been distracted enough for one evening.” He stepped closer pinning James against the frame. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>James raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh, so this is why you wanted to go to bed early?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was starting to lose interest in that book Anne had me reading. Especially knowing you were waiting.” He reached his hand up to brush through James’ hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>James reached forward and kissed Francis. Whatever doubts he had faded as he felt Francis, warm, pressed against him. He’d think about everything else tomorrow. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>*****</span>


</p>
<p>
  <span>[Six Months Earlier]</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cabin of HMS Enterprise was warm. They were in the cold, still, but the glow of the lamps and the rocking of the open sea left James Fitzjames at ease in his bed. Well, not his bed – the captain’s bed, Sir James Clark Ross’ bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t have much say in the matter, he had just woken up here one day. There had been three men standing over him: Sir James, the ship’s doctor, and of course, Francis Crozier. The latter clutched James’ hand as if the other two weren’t there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps there was one thing James had achieved in all this – somehow, however unlikely it was, however unworthy he felt, James had earned Francis’ love. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was no longer the man who had set foot on Erebus all those years ago; all those illusions of grandeur had left him. He’d likely never go to sea again, but it doesn't matter. That old James had been ready to die at sea, but now he had </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone</span>
  </em>
  <span> to live for. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>James pulled the blanket close around him and peered through the crack in the door into the great cabin, following the hushed voices and the streams of candlelight. It called to him, but he felt too weak to stand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I owe you everything, James. You found us, right in time. If I’d lost him, I don’t know what I’d have done,” Francis spoke, his voice breaking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d promised I’d find you, Frank, and I did. You’re here now, both of you, don’t think of it,” Ross replied. James could see him reach across the table to take Francis’ hand. The warm light danced off Ross’ buttons and hair. He seemed to glow, even if he too had been hit by the scurvy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t know how close we came,” Francis said, before letting his head fall on Ross’ shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ross reached his hand up to stroke Francis’ hair. “I know,” he whispered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Francis sighed. “I can’t get it out of my head.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really love him, don’t you?” Ross asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>James held his breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. I do,” Francis replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ross smiled, somewhat sadly. He pulled his hand away from Francis to adjust something on the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was too-” Francis sighed, leaning away from Ross. “Christ, it took me so long to wrap my head around it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t that always the case for you,” Ross mused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never understood you and Ann, not completely. At least, until now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad. Now, Have you told him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. It was never the time. I don’t know if he’d even want any sort of… relationship.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course James wanted a relationship, he wanted to spend all his time back home with Francis, even if he had to share. James needed to tell Francis.  But how could he say that when all they had were half-kisses and confessions on what James was sure was to be his deathbed?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if he does, know that there’s always a place for you in Aston Abbotts. For the both of you,” Ross said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next time James woke they were standing over him, muttering. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>James Clark Ross met his eye and promptly looked away. He turned to Francis. “Shall I leave you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. James, stay.” Francis looked down at James. “Ah, you’re both James, that’s going to be trouble.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat down on the bed. “So how much did you hear?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not much,” James replied. “Alright, I heard most of it,” he admitted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ross sat in the chair opposite the bed. “How are you feeling, Captain Fitzjames?” he asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. No, call me-” </span>
  <em>
    <span>no, not James</span>
  </em>
  <span>. James stared at the man in front of him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He was James. </span>
  </em>
  <span>A proper James, name not a bad pun. There was no need to stand on ceremony either, he wasn’t a captain of anything anymore. “Fitz. Fitz is fine.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, Fitz, but how are you?” Ross leaned his hand on the bed, just a few inches away from James’. </span>
</p><p><span>“Better. Infinitely better than a few weeks earlier.” James looked back at Francis. He was still giving James that </span><em><span>look</span></em><span>, the same one as that night in the tent</span><em><span>, </span></em><span>and</span> <span>that day at the cairn. James sighed. </span></p><p>
  <span>“I was telling Frank that you both should stay with Anne and I, for a while, or as long as you like.” Ross said, sitting uneasy, casting his gaze between James and Francis. James didn’t like seeing Ross like this, not on his account. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what do you say, James?” Francis asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>James scanned both their faces. “Yes. I would like that very much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excellent. There we have it. I’ll get you both settled in London for a while when we return and send word to Anne.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>James’ exhaustion overwhelmed him, and he wondered if any amount of sleep would ever free him of it. He sank into the pillows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>James lifted his hand and let it fall over Francis’ on the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ross’ eyes seemed to grow wider. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>James looked down and realized he wasn’t holding Francis’ hand, but that of Sir James Ross. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t think much of it – didn’t think at all in his state – but figured it would be allowed. At the least, it would be excused, given his state. Yes, very likely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still. James Clark Ross did not move. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The lamp in James Clark Ross’ study was about to go out. He watched it as it flickered, burning the last of the oil. He wondered if he could finish the page he was writing before it burned out completely. </p><p>Probably. He looked back down at the page and wrote on about his abrupt, latest – and very last, this time – trip to the Arctic. </p><p>He’d get this one done quickly, certainly by the end of the month. He couldn’t spend years like the last time. Then, he hadn’t been able to escape the absence of Francis. He was supposed to be there, by James’ side. Like something essential and irreplaceable – like his right hand. </p><p>The relief of finding Francis alive was so instantaneous and overwhelming, he simply couldn’t think about it at the time. His goal had merely changed from finding Frank to getting him home. </p><p>Now, they were home and all he could think of was how close he’d come to disaster. Had he turned back only a few miles earlier. Had he chosen to go east instead of south… </p><p>Even Francis himself spoke of how close they’d come, how many they’d lost. James had to be the one to reassure him. Tell Frank that he would get him home. </p><p>He’d done that. Frank <em> was </em> back home. </p><p><em> For now, </em> that lingering thought at the back of his head insisted. It was likely that, any day now, he and Fitzjames would consider moving. Especially with the way the latter walked on eggshells around James. </p><p>The light went out, sending the room into darkness. </p><p>James sighed. He set down the pen. </p><p>He turned around to look out the window. No moon, only a speckling of bright stars. </p><p>James stood and made his way towards the warm line of light streaming through the crack under the door. </p><p>He pulled it open and stepped out into the bright hallway. It was quiet in the house. Of course, it was late, why should it be anything else? This wasn’t a ship full of men with rotating watches. </p><p>The children would be asleep. Likely, Anne too. Knowing Frank, he’d be reasonable too. </p><p>All these lights were for James alone. He was the last watch. </p><p>Fitzjames was the wildcard, however. James had only known him by reputation– and a truly impeccable one at that. Certainly worthy of Francis’ love. </p><p>James only wished he knew him better. </p><p>He put out the lamp in the hall. He stood in the partial dark and looked on to the light that still burned in the library. </p><p>James walked to the open door and stopped, knocking gently on the wood so as not to wake anyone upstairs. </p><p>Fitzjames looked up at him from one of the titles. His long features appeared sharper next to the candle. His big eyes reflected the light. James could understand entirely how he’d earned himself the title of the new ‘handsomest man in the navy.’ </p><p>“Sir James, didn’t realize you were still awake.” </p><p>“Well, Fitz, you’ll find there’s always someone up too late in this house.”</p><p>“Seems Anne and Francis are always the sane ones.”</p><p>James laughed. “Yes, you’d be right about that.”</p><p>“Well, feel free to come in… this is your house after all.”</p><p>“Yours too now. I don’t consider you a guest.”</p><p>“And I am grateful for that, agai-”</p><p>James raised a hand to stop him. “Enough of that. If I’m being honest,  this place would be bare and drafty without you and Frank here.”</p><p>“I suppose that’s fair.”</p><p>James looked over the array of papers and the inkwell on Fitzjames’ desk. </p><p>“Have you been working in here?” James asked.</p><p>“Yes. Sorry-”</p><p>“No need. Please.” James hoped that one day there would be a moment when the man wouldn’t be so skittish around him. “I only mean that we should be able to rearrange some things and set you up a study of your own. If you’d like. It’s no trouble.”</p><p>“I- Yes. I’d like that.”</p><p>“Good. We’ll figure that all out tomorrow.” James leaned against the doorframe. “For now, I think it’s about time for me to go to bed.”</p><p>“Good night, Sir James.”</p><p>James sighed. He didn’t like that name, not here. This formality was becoming a wedge between them, between him and Francis. But he was tired and there was no other name he could offer. Although perhaps he should, considering the other James had the name twice over. </p><p>“Good night,” he replied, nodding, and left the library in favour of his own bedroom upstairs. </p><p>His and Anne’s bedroom was dark, the only light in the hallway was that coming from Frank’s room at the very end. It appeared that he wasn’t being so reasonable after all. </p><p>James stepped into his own room, aware of the floor creaking under his feet. Anne lay curled up under the blankets right in the center of the bed. The mound rising and falling with her calm, even breaths. </p><p>He didn’t have the heart to wake her. Not with all the nights she had stayed up waiting for him as he’d planned for the expedition. Now, she could finally rest. </p><p>James left the room and closed the door behind him, and walked down to the end of the hall. Through the open door he could see Frank in his nightshirt, up on one side of the bed, reading a book. </p><p>“Seems none of the sailors in this house sleep anymore,” He whispered. </p><p>Francis turned to James. “Hello to you too, James dear. I see you’re up late as well.” He set the book down and sat up.</p><p>“May I come in?” James said. </p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>James walked over and sat beside him. “Frank I’ve-” <em> I’ve missed you. Desperately- </em> No, he couldn’t say that. He let out a sigh that ended up more like a whine. “Well, this giant echoing house, and I can’t seem to get you alone.” Like that was any better. “Or much spare time really, these days.”</p><p>“Well,” Francis said, “it’s not my fault you’re afraid of Fitzjames.”</p><p>“I am not. Of course not. Why would I be!”</p><p>“I think you protest too much. Anne’s asleep, isn’t she?”</p><p>“I-” James leaned back and looked at Francis, feigning disbelief. He sighed. “She- Yes.” </p><p>Francis laughed. “Just get in bed, James.” He pulled back the covers and James didn’t need a second invitation. </p><p>James kept his distance. It was a very big bed and an adequate heated home, there was no reason for him to be too close. </p><p>“It’s not that I’m scared of him, it’s just...” </p><p>“What is it, then?”</p><p>James sighed. <em> What was it, then? </em> Really, what was it? </p><p>“Remember how nervous you were to meet Anne? And he’s your Anne, I suppose.” It wasn’t entirely wrong, James didn’t know what the etiquette here was. </p><p>“Francis, are you still up?” James Fitzjames’ voice came from the doorway. James turned to look at him. Fitzjames’ eyes were wide, and he steadied himself against the door to avoid stumbling forward with how abruptly he’d stopped his stride. He just stood there, staring at the other man who shared his name, in <em> his </em> bed. “Oh I- Sorry, I didn’t realize.” </p><p>James should be the one so deeply shaken to be found here, and yet he wasn’t. But he should be. This wasn’t his place. “Oh no, I am sorry to take your spot. I ought to be going.” James threw off the blanket and swung his legs over the side of the bed. </p><p>“No, wait!” Fitzjames took a step forward. “You can stay, I don’t mind. Unless Francis...” He cast a look over at Frank. </p><p>The two of them stared at each other. There was a whole language in the looks they exchanged. James looked away. </p><p>“Please. I won’t intrude.” James stood and walked past Fitzjames to the door. “Goodnight, Frank, Fitz.”</p><p>“Good night, James!” Frank called after him, but James had already returned to the hallway. </p><p>He walked past his bedroom and back down to the study, taking the light from the hallway with him. </p><p>It wasn’t that James was unhappy with his life. Hardly. Still, there was something bothering him – some itching in the back of his mind. </p><p>It wasn’t that James objected to any of this. He wanted Francis to finally have this happiness, after Sophia, after everything. Lord knew he had never been able to hold onto happiness before. </p><p>Still, to think that perhaps, once, something may have been possible between him and Francis. Somewhere between regret and jealousy, he was mourning something that never had never been. </p>
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